


Blood for Blood

by Snake (Fatality145)



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: BB/V, Blood, M/M, PWP (porn with pain), Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-01
Updated: 2015-10-01
Packaged: 2018-04-24 07:34:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4910758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fatality145/pseuds/Snake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <span class="small">Palms pressed to his chest, and he hoped they'd push back, but there was just pressure, nothing he couldn't easily fight back. He licked over his teeth after he'd pulled them away, the skin beneath his nails giving way, tendons flexing under his fingertips.</span>
</p>
<p>  <span class="small">	Though it was a shade of green, the eye that looked back at him was exactly his own; as focused and as sharp - a phantom.</span></p>
            </blockquote>





	Blood for Blood

**Author's Note:**

> LMAO I DIE !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i hate metal gear. it's 3am and i churned this shit out asap 4 my gf so pls forgive mistake  
> (´・ω・`)
> 
> bb/v gml . . . . this is just REALLY BLOODY phantom sex lmfao bye.

"A diamond dog with no bite, huh?" The words were spat, gristly and smoky, the kind of voice that doesn't come naturally, "Pathetic."

 

                A half-gloved hand closed around a stubbled throat. There were scars there, small slits, bumps of shrapnel and bumps of bone, both his own and not. Chipped nails digging into rough skin, Big Boss sunk his canines into the crux of his prey's jaw, feeling it split and feeling heat lace his would-be forked tongue.

 

                Palms pressed to his chest, and he hoped they'd push back, but there was just pressure, nothing he couldn't easily fight back. He licked over his teeth after he'd pulled them away, the skin beneath his nails giving way, tendons flexing under his fingertips.

 

                Though it was a shade of green, the eye that looked back at him was exactly his own; as focused and as sharp - a phantom. A legend could be made out of anyone under the right circumstances, he knew that well enough, and he could see everything that the both of them had done in that eye.

 

                Venom held scars he should have gotten but never did, held the trophy of his sacrifice deep in his skull - a terse, black horn.  When Big Boss would press his thumb into the base of it, his left side would go weak, momentarily blind, spit pooling in his mouth and dribbling down the corner of his lips. The Boss would always stop, though, before he would be left with more permanent scars.

 

                Beneath his hand, he could feel V swallow, the lump of his trachea shifting down. The fingers of his other worked up the side of his face, sliding beneath the straps of his mirrored eye patch, pulling it away.

 

                This was different. A pale eye stared at him, void of a pupil, an artefact of the incident. Big Boss's own had been removed entirely, a concave mess prone to infection and rot. He supposed they were even, with his eye gone and Venom's arm gone.

 

                Outer Heaven was a place his heart would turn black, and he had to drag his phantom down with him. The psychological manipulation of an absent mind could only do so much, words fed into V's ears as he was comatose while his structure was shifted. The doctors had done an superb job, the marks of plastic surgery barely noticeable, at least, not beneath the scars tapered and reopened and tapered again. Venom was his perfect clone, bred from him through different means.

 

                Despite all of that, and despite his fervour over the Les Enfants Terribles project, Big Boss needed something more than perfect, more than flawless. That's why he was there, why they were lungs deep in the warm, stagnant South African air. An act couldn't be upheld without proofreading the material.

 

                Big Boss's eye broke from Venom's, working down his face to the crescent marks he'd left over his jaw, and in turn offered his own. Everything that was done to his phantom, he needed to have too. He could feel the hesitance in him even as he weakened the hold on his throat, V's marred lips parting as though he were trying to speak.

 

                It didn't last long, and he was soon ducking in closer to him. Hot breath spread over Big Boss's throat, seeping beneath the leather of his fitted jacket, the tinge of teeth scathing his cheek before biting down. Weak at first, they dug in deeper, breaking the skin as he had, a rivulet of blood meeting the heated exhales.

 

                Venom's tongue laved over the mark, cleaning the red smears from his beard that showed more grey prickles each day. There was an inkling of... comfort in it, licking a wound. It made something in the bottom of his gut twist, and Big Boss tightened his hand around his neck, pushing him back against the wall he'd herded him to.

 

                Their breath had picked up, reflected to the smallest of details, and their breath intermingled in the small space between them, the Boss's the aroma of cigars, the real thing, and the phantom's the fake counterpart, the twisting vapours.

 

                "...Boss," Venom's voice was his own speaking back to him, and while he thought he'd long gotten used to it, there was no silencing the quiet confusion in the back of his head each time he would see him and hear him and feel him.

 

                That same, brief confusion had him suddenly rear his head back, the next sound the crack of cartilage and bone, Venom's sharp gasp as the base of his skull met the wall and sanguine poured down from his nose in coagulated lumps. It slid over his lips and clung to his jaw before landing on the hardwood floor, the thick drips echoing too loudly in the dimly lit room they were in.

 

                Letting go of him, Big Boss's hand came to V's face, his thumb and forefinger closing around the crooked bridge. He wasn't gentle as he straightened it out, feeling the parts beneath grind together. Broken noses healed too quickly in their bent position, and he didn't need anything else to take his perfect phantom from him.

 

                Coughing out, Venom leaned over slightly as Snake let him go, choppily panting and roughly exhaling through his nose, forcing the last of the clots out to splatter over the floor. Bruises were already forming beneath his eyes, but they healed well enough, he knew that.

 

                "Still not fighting back?" Big Boss asked him, pressing the heel of his palm into V's shoulder, keeping him upright against the wall as the flow died down to a sluggish seep. His phantom simply... looked back at him, his remaining, seeing eye growing a little glazed. There was nothing he could say in the presence of Big Boss that Big Boss didn't already know or hadn't already said himself, he thought.

 

                It was equal, conflicting parts of narcissism and self loathing that kept the Boss close to his identical half like this, that made him hurt him then clean him up afterward, and Venom would never retaliate.

 

                At least, not until Snake would grab his hands as he did, lifting them up. V's coarse knuckles ran over the front of the other's jacket before his fingers were manipulated to curl around his throat, both his thumbs, prosthetic and not, poised over his windpipe.

 

                "C'mon..." Tipping his head back, Big Boss exposed his neck further for him, staring at him down his lashes.

 

                There was little reason in denying him, and, maybe, there was a small part of him that did want to. In his facade, there was too little time to dwell on the what-ifs, but here he had the space, and he let it show in the way his fingers clenched around Snake's throat.

 

                The breath Big Boss let out ran cold toward the end, his hands shifting down to hold Venom's wrists, watching him, feeling the telltale urge to breathe beat in his lungs. He knew his phantom could do more than that because _he_ could do more than that, snapping necks and collapsing tracheas with a tightness just a bit more than what he was experiencing. But he could deal with just this, for now.

 

                As he leaned forward in V's hold, the pressure increased until his elbows buckled out and they were face to face once more. The tendons in Big Boss's neck tensed beneath his hands just as his own had beneath Big Boss's earlier, the same glaze coming to his eye.

 

                Between them, the Boss could only smell Venom's breath and the blood that painted his mouth in what small inhales he could get. His pulse was picking up, and the adrenaline and scent of cruor was mixing in his head in a way that was getting harder and harder to differentiate from what he felt in the battlefield.

 

                V's thumbs slid from his Adam's apple, settling on either side as Snake's lips met his own in a messy, open-mouthed kiss. It was less a kiss and more a fit of physical necessity between them, and all too quickly, Big Boss's body was pressed up uncomfortably flush against his own, pinning him tight to the wall.

 

                Their mouths tasted of each other's blood, one in the same, Venom's mouth of ashes and Big Boss's of something more bitter. A low growl permeated deep from Snake's chest, his fingers fisting into V's ponytail, taking a painfully firm hold and tipping his head aside. The deeper kiss was stained with the clots smeared between them, and neither cared if not preferred it.

 

                It was all bites and sucked in breaths, Big Boss sinking his teeth around his lower lip, the gnashing of jaws. Venom was a gentler half of him, but there was still a fire behind each of his movements, how his nails dragged down the side of Snake's throat, his fingers closing tight into the leather over his back, arms around his wide torso.

 

                This was the height of hubris, a decadent indulgence, more water than one could drink and more air than one could take.

 

                Boss knew his body exactly how he knew his own, his thigh pressing between V's, the flat of it rubbing against his groin. They worked in sync, each pulling away from the kiss to breathe as Big Boss's hands raked down the other's hips to the hem of his thin shirt and Venom nosed down his collar, smearing more of the blood on him as he closed his mouth around a patch of his throat.

 

                Carelessly, Snake yanked his shirt up, his nails leaving claw marks over his muscled belly and sides, agitating old and new scars, the punctures of past gut thread flaring up. A thud, and V was pushed back against the wall once more.

 

               He let out a long breath, a flush coming to his face, pale around his healed wounds. They didn't need words like this, Venom ducking over and lifting his arms above his head as Big Boss peeled his clothes away. The straps of his prosthetic dug into his skin, leaving perpetual bruises where they'd dug in too far and for too long, cramped in the corner of a dusty outpost under the blistering sun.

 

                Had it been a different time, and had they been different people, Big Boss might have been kind, maybe even gentle with him. But as the days went by, that weak trait was quickly being shed from him. The heel of his hand dug in against the bulge in the front of Venom's pants, and the phantom tipped his head back against the wall, exposing his throat to him.

 

                Taking the opportunity he could take whenever he wished, Snake bit into the column of his neck. He overlayed atop previous marks he'd left there, small divots in V's skin in the shape of his jaws, like he'd been bitten by a dog over and over, and Venom would just let him.

 

                Big Boss felt out his erection through the tough material, squeezing him as he felt the cold prosthetic delve under his jacket and the shirt beneath, leaving raked lines just as he had. He listened to Venom pant by his ear, and even as he felt him up, he didn't dare undress him without permission.

 

                Today, he wasn't feeling as generous. Deftly, Snake undid the other's belt and pulled down the zip, the head of his cock having left a small wet patch. His fingers were rough and calloused as he pulled him from his briefs, closing around his shaft. A heavy vein beat along the underside, and a dribble of pre ran over the joint of his thumb.

 

                Pulling away from his ravaged throat, Big Boss looked down between them. He would have seemed cold and aloof if it wasn't for the mirrored flush over his features, but still there was little emotion on his face.

 

                Venom's prosthetic hand gripped the nape of the other's neck, the heels of his boots digging into the floor as he canted his hips, trying to get further into his grasp. He got little more than a tightened hold around him, having his breath hitch.

 

                Snake had to wonder. Looking at his phantom like this, was it how he would look in the same position, give or take a few scars over his chest and along his back, a slightly but inconceivable difference in musculature, and with less shrapnel and loose teeth lodged in deep.

 

                He knew, of course, that it would be. It felt almost like cheating that he could see him like this, see _himself_ like this, like nobody else would be able to experience with what was themselves. But, then again, he'd spent the better half of his life cheating and lying and, in retrospect, this was hardly any different.

 

                Still, he drunk it in, as he did every time, taking in Venom's twitches and the way his lips would pull back from his bloodied teeth as he slowly ran his hand up the length of his prick. His thumb swiped over the slit at the tip, and he felt V's full body shudder like it was his own, spreading the beads of pre-come that came from him.

 

                In all his depravity, indulging in this part of it all was enough for him, and he rarely lingered, giving his phantom's erection a few more passes before he let him go. Venom had only a bare moment of reprieve before strong fingers gripped the bone of his hip, forcibly turning him around to have his chest press to the wall.

 

                Gritting his teeth a moment, V looked back at him over his shoulder, the material of his pants pushed further down his thighs to his knees, allowing him to spread. He heard the sound of a zip being undone behind him, and his prick beat in answer, heavy between his legs.

 

                Gloved hands kneaded along his ass, never permissive after this point, before he felt the heat of Big Boss's dick press against him. Steadying himself, Venom rut back on him, his flank meeting Snake's still covered hips. He didn't push back, watching the pre-come that wept from him smear over his phantom's lower back.

 

                V figured the next thing he would hear would be the popping of a cap, but instead he heard the click of a lighter, and he squeezed his bleary eyes shut before peering back again.

 

                One hand on Venom's hip, Big Boss lifted the other toward his mouth, a thick cigar between his teeth, lighting up the end of it. Almost instantly, the thick scent spread through the room, not masking but instead mixing with their sweat and the smell of sex and blood.

 

                Along V's spine, there were small, round scars, old burns, the precise size of the end of a cigar, and he expected the sizzle of the ember but instead received the slide of leather pushing against his back.  Snake never moved to his blind side, and Venom never moved to his, the phantom breathing in the sickly thick smoke as Big Boss exhaled by him, his chin propped on his shoulder.

 

                Holding it between his fingers, the Boss took another drag of the cigar before tipping his head. He slanted his mouth to V's, and exhaled into him, smoke wafting between their lips, out from his nose. He wanted Venom's mouth to taste of this, just as his own did, and not of ashes of people he didn't and would never know.

 

                Jutting his hips against his backside, Big Boss's cock rubbed up along the curve of his ass, pulling away from the kiss and staying in just that. His lips ran along the stretch of muscle between V's shoulder and his throat before biting in, his hand holding the cigar wrapping around the other's upper chest. He braced his weight on him, and his phantom did little to resist, baring his teeth, the caked and dried blood over his mouth and upper lip cracking.

 

                Reaching back, Venom grabbed at his hip. A closeness like this almost made him feel whole, as though the actual Big Boss was the missing part of him, everything that he was before nothing that he is now, only the legend that was moaning lowly, quietly against his shoulder blade.

 

                They were the same sounds he made by himself, and his chest was wound tight, rolling back against Snake, his other arm bent over the wall, his brow pressed to it.

 

                "Boss..." He breathed, his eyelids heavy and eye darker.

 

                Teeth closed around the shell of his ear for a scant moment, and the pressure left his back, the floorboards creaking beneath them. Ash fell from the cigar, slowly floating toward the hardwood, as Big Boss shifted behind him.

 

                A click, and Venom felt velvety liquid seep from the small of his back down the curve of his ass, Snake liberally squeezing lubricant onto him. Bare fingers followed suit, sliding in between, spreading it around and into him.

 

                He'd quickly gotten used to the Boss's disregard in this, two fingers pushing into him deep, straight down to the knuckle. Almost wincing, he bit it back in favour for a rough groan as they curled inside him, rubbing up against him in a way that made his knees weak. Big Boss knew this body better than he did.

 

                Stretched out around him, V was soon left the panting mess he was before with Snake's knee against his dick, his lips parted, wetting them with the tip of his tongue, his erection still throbbing between his thighs.

 

                With that same coldness, Big Boss watched his phantom take the fingers, his hand holding the cigar keeping him spread as he pulled them out and delved them back in deep. He was deft, but he knew without this, it would be uncomfortable - more importantly, uncomfortable for himself.

 

                That didn't mean he was going to give him all the time in the world, his fingertips pressing into the meat of Venom's ass as he added a third finger beside it, and seeing him stretch wide around the thickest part near his knuckles had him hiss in a breath between his teeth.

 

                Bringing the cigar up to his lips, he bit into the end of it, holding it in his mouth as he took his fingers from him. Keeping him open, he smeared more of the lube along his cock before taking himself in hand. Anticipation flooded his gut and he knew Venom was the same, taking a step toward him and aligning the head of his prick.

 

                Heated and taut around him, Big Boss grit his jaws around the cigar, glancing between how he took him in and what he could see of V's face half buried in his bent forearm. This was particularly audacious, to take his phantom, to be as close as possible, more than they already were simply existing in the same plane.

 

                He paid little attention to Venom aside from the clenches and shudders he felt around him as he sunk in to the base, his hips pressing flush to his backside once more. Snake didn't need to ask him if he was alright, if he even ever would. One hand left his hips to instead press to the wall before them, V's soon meeting it, his flesh fingers pushing into the spaces between his. He could feel it too, this foul synergy they and nobody else shared.

 

                Not one to linger, Big Boss tightened his hold on his phantom's waist, his thumb pressing into one of the dimples at the base of his spine as he began to pull out from him. He reared out until just the head of his prick was left before pushing back into him, his advance forcing Venom's hips forward.

 

                In their quiet room, there was nothing save for their heavy breath, tinges of moans and grunts and hitched inhales, the whine of the floorboards beneath their boots. The hot, listless air had beads of sweat form along the nape of Snake's neck beneath his jacket and over Venom's shoulders, the moisture running down the curve of his back, catching on a deep, healed gash.

 

                There was a tension in the Boss's gut that never left whenever he was in the other's presence, and he didn't have to imagine that the same was for him. It escalated in times like these, when he couldn't tell the difference between battle lust and the _normal_ kind. With them, perhaps there was no need for a difference.

 

                The cigar fell from between Big Boss's fingers and hit the floor with a thud that was drowned out by the two of them. His arm circled tight around Venom's waist and he pressed flush to him again. He breathed in the smell of him that was irrevocably himself - felt all of him that was irrevocably himself.

 

                Venom was shifting back against him haphazardly, for once out of sync. He couldn't help it for whatever reason, and he couldn't focus enough to imagine it. Whenever it was over, the feeling was gone with it and there was no chance of reflection. Not that it mattered all too much. This was base and near instinctual between them. He didn't need to think with Big Boss buried into him deep, the ridge of his cock scathing over his prostate on every other rough thrust.

 

                The pain in the centre of his face was an afterthought to the rising heat in his belly, his knees almost buckling beneath him, and they might have if it weren't for Snake's iron hold around his hips. His bloodstained teeth sunk into his arm but it did little to muffle his sounds, his throat dry and raw. He could tell when the other was close, he somehow become rougher, more urgent, his passes shorter, and while Big Boss wasn't loud, he could still hear him.

 

                He could feel the shaking in his chest against his back as he tried to suck in breaths, hear the perpetual rumble in his throat that gradually grew more gritty. Fingers squeezing around the Boss's, Venom let him go to take himself in hand. He was as careless with himself as Snake was, jerking himself off, his cock slick with the pre-come that had been dripping from him.

 

                Surrounded with the smell of him, the blood caked in the back of his throat, endorphins and adrenaline and every battle hormone in between pumping through his veins, he was quick to come, squeezing his eyes shut with a deep groan, strings of white splattering onto the wall from his beating prick.

 

                His body locked up, clamping down around Big Boss who gave a particularly louder moan, Venom's temple thunking against the wall as he fisted his ponytail again, shoving him forward. Eyes dazed and head dizzier, V stared back at him, his jaws ajar.

 

                One palm pressed to the small of his back and the other pulling at his hair, the Boss thrust deep into him, having his phantom take him to the root of his cock before he came, and this time Venom did wince.

 

                The creaks of the floorboards died down as they stayed like that, taking in the stagnant air as though there wasn't enough. There was no afterglow with them, it wasn't as though it were normal. As soon as his breath was caught, Big Boss let go of him, taking his hips in hand only to pull away from him.

 

                An amount of his come trailed after, dripping from him and meeting with the drying specks of blood on the floor. Snake gave him a short once over before swiping a hand over his mouth and tucking himself back way.

 

                Venom took a small amount of time longer to recover, but, like his other half, he didn't linger. Bending over, the pain in his backside was minimal to everything else he'd received that day, gathering his pants and shucking them up his legs.

 

                After things like this, neither of them wanted to speak, like a gravity was setting down on their chests which stopped any inane comments identical copies could possibly make to one another. It was... fine with V, and apparently fine with Boss, too. Grabbing a nearby handful of tissues, Venom cleaned off most of the blood from his face; he would have to wash it out from his beard.

 

                The only thing they shared afterward before Venom would have to leave, to return back his purpose, _his_ base, was a brief touch of their fingers, flesh to flesh, and a meeting of their eyes, blue to green.

 

                Sun setting, bright oranges and umbers filtered into their room, and the pit of Big Boss's stomach no longer held that tension.

 

                His dropped cigar had gone out, and all he could smell was a petrichor of blood, the reminiscent metallic taste of himself and ash on his tongue. He lit it back up.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks FOR READING :* !
> 
> (ps. not hype for criticism pls understand this is just a hobby and i have no self esteem dry wheeze)


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